


Walk With Me

by chasingpurplepumpkins



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Harry helps, M/M, and with babygate, basically louis is having a tough time with zayn leaving, but if you're triggered by that sort of thing be aware, mentions of not eating enough, mentions of zayn but LOL he's gone, not in an eating disordered way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-30 06:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12102840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasingpurplepumpkins/pseuds/chasingpurplepumpkins
Summary: With Zayn leaving and being told he'll have to pretend to be a father, Louis is having a hard time, but doesn't want to worry anyone. But this is a fanfic, so of course that backfires.





	1. Concerts Aren't Always Fun

**Author's Note:**

> apologies for any timeline inconsistencies. also, apologies for any typos. i promise i proofread but i have adhd so no matter how many times i go back and read through, some still slip by me. one more apology: sorry if harry's characterization doesn't seem right. he's an enigma and i find him really hard to write. my tumblr (which i literally just made) is otparchnemeses, if anyone is interested.

“Alright boys! Five minutes til show time!”

“Louis,” Harry says as seriously as he can, resting his hands on his boyfriend’s waist, “if you don’t feel good you need to tell me right now.”  
Louis has been dodging and dismissing Harry’s concerns about his health all day, and it hasn’t entirely been lies because he’s not sick, per say. But now Harry has phrased it a way where he can’t just lie by omission, he has to either tell the complete truth or a complete lie.

“Harry, I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

Well, he is tired. And stressed. And a little dizzy. And his head hurts, and he could keep going on with lists of complaints in his head, but he stops himself because he needs to just suck it up and deal.

Because there’s a show to put on, and because he’s a professional. And yeah, maybe he hasn’t been handling the stress of Zayn leaving the band and the news that he’s going to have to pretend to have gotten a random woman pregnant very well, but then again, who would handle that seamlessly?

“If you say so,” Harry says quietly, and Louis can tell that he’s not convinced, but they’re about to go on stage and there’s not much he could do to remedy the situation anyway.

Louis can’t sleep. 

He spends hours and hours staring at the ceiling each night, jealous of Harry sleeping soundly next to him. He wants to sleep, because he’s so fucking tired it’s ridiculous at this point, but he can’t stop reviewing the past four years in his mind, trying to think of signs he must have missed with Zayn along the way. On some level, he knows that he shouldn’t blame himself for Zayn leaving, but his unofficial place in the bad has always been to provide some modicum of leadership.

He’s not the voice, he’s not the cool one, he’s not the one girls throw bras at, and he’s not sunshine personified in the way Niall is.  
But he is the oldest, and he’s always been good at keeping the team from falling apart in times of duress. But this time he couldn’t fix it, and he couldn’t keep everyone together, and he feels like he failed Niall, Harry, and Liam. 

(And Zayn, even though he’s still mad at him.)

There’s also the small detail that not only is he not allowed to tell the world he’s in love with Harry, he has to pretend to be a father circling his mind at night. So really, who could blame him for not being able to sleep?

And then there’s the fact that the stress has killed his appetite. And when you’re as busy as a member of One Direction is, if you’re not getting hungry, it’s really easy to forget to eat. He knows it’s bad, and he’s considered setting alarms in his phone at meal times, but the second Harry sees “LOUIS, EAT YOU DUMB FUCK” flash on his boyfriend’s phone, the second Harry is going to know something is wrong.  
But really, there’s nothing wrong. They’re all stressed. No need to worry his boyfriend when they’re all going through a tough time.  
The thought that fuck, have I not eaten anything today occurs to him as he’s walking on stage, but he assumes it’ll be fine. He’s performed with a fever, Niall’s performed with his knee about to fall off, Harry’s performed with a stomach bug, and no one’s ever passed out before. 

He’ll be alright; hungry, but alright.

Halfway through the concert, he realizes that he will not, in fact, be alright.

Harry’s been shooting him quick concerned glances throughout the show, but he knows he’s not supposed to interact with Louis on stage, so that’s as far as it goes. Liam, on the other hand, is not bound by the same constraints. He casually walks over to Louis while Niall is hyping up the crowd in between songs, his face smiley and warm as not to tip off the audience, but his voice is deadly serious.

“Louis, you look like you’re going to collapse at any moment. What’s wrong, mate?”

Louis does his best to return Liam’s “everything is totally and 100% okay” smile before speaking.

“I think I’m going to pass out.”

“No, you’re not,” Liam says calmly, always one to keep his head in stressful situations, “you just need to take a couple of deep breaths, okay? You can sit down for the rest of the concert. I’ll tell the crowd you have a hurt ankle. Just sit down, alright? I’ll help you.”

If there’s anyone Louis trusts to take care of him after Harry, it’s Liam, so he does as he’s told, allowing Liam to help him to sit down. Liam quickly grabs a water bottle and hands it to him, before rubbing his back for a few moments while Niall is still talking to the crowd.

“You’re okay, Lou,” Liam murmurs, “you’re just fine. The concert will be over before you know it. You’re alright.”

“Thanks, Li.”

“Anything for you, Louis. The song’s about to start so I gotta go work the stage and what not, but I’ll be back to check on you. Don’t get up, okay? Just stay put.”

“Okay, Daddy Direction,” Louis says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

“That’s my boy,” Liam chuckles, patting his friend’s cheek.

Liam tells the crowd that Louis has a bad ankle, so he’ll be sitting for the rest of the concert, and the audience seems to buy it, but he can feel Niall and Harry’s eyes on him instantaneously.

They both know that Louis’s ankle was fine before they went on stage, and if he had hurt it during the concert the audience would have seen it and screamed and cried. They may not know what’s going on, but they both know that something is going on.

Louis is feeling so out of it that he doesn’t even notice that Harry has sat down next to him a couple of songs later until he hears the crowd screaming LARRY STYLINSON and LARRY IS REAL over Liam telling them that they’re “the best fans in the world.”

“Harry, what are you doing? You’re not supposed to-

“I don’t care,” he says flatly, “Liam tells me you aren’t well?”

“I feel really dizzy,” he admits sheepishly, “Liam had me sit down so I wouldn’t pass out. I’m fine… I just… accidentally didn’t eat today. And I didn’t sleep last night. But I’m fine.”

“Louis,” Harry growls, “how do you accidentally not eat all day? And you couldn’t sleep last night? Why didn’t you wake me up so I could help? What’s… what’s going on, Lou? And don’t tell me that everything is fine. I’ve been worried about you.”

“Harry, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“Yes,” Harry says exasperatedly, “yes, it is. I knew you weren’t feeling well. I should have-

“Hey. I should have told you. Don’t blame yourself for things that aren’t your fault, love.”

“Something’s wrong,” Harry says, tears starting to pool in his emerald eyes, “and you have to tell me what it is so I can help.”

“I will,” Louis concedes, “but after the concert, because if you keep sitting next to me Simon Cowell himself will come on stage and tear you away from me.”

“Louis-

“I’ll be fine, Harry. I’m sitting down. Nothing bad is going to happen to me. But you know we’re already going to be in trouble for this, and the longer you sit here with me the worse it’s going to be.”

“Fine,” Harry mumbles bitterly, “just know that I’m mad at you. I asked if you were okay and you lied and then you almost passed out on stage.”

“You have every right to be mad, baby. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Harry shoots him what’s probably supposed to be a nasty glare but is heavily marred by concern before he stands up and walks away.  
The rest of the concert passes fairly uneventfully, with Liam and Niall popping by every now and then to make sure he’s alright. Liam even rubs his ankle at one point to really sell the excuse to the crowd, and when the show’s over, Liam helping him up and off the stage seems like a completely normal thing to do for someone with a hurt ankle, so god willing, the fans don’t realize he’s actually just making sure his friend doesn’t pass out upon getting back on his feet.

The second the four boys are backstage and safely out of the audience’s view is the second that Louis is lifted up into his boyfriend’s arms. The smaller boy’s first instinct is to protest, but he knows that Harry is angry with him, so he figures it’s best not to argue and to just let Harry care for him however he sees fit.

“Tell me what doesn’t feel good,” Harry says quietly, sitting down on the couch in his dressing room with Louis in his lap.

“My head hurts and I’m exhausted, Haz,” he moans, half expected to be reprimanded for whining when he’s the one who brought this upon himself, but of course Harry is too nice for that, even when he’s angry.

“Are you still dizzy, sweetheart?”

Louis nods his head against Harry’s chest, feeling Harry tighten his arms around him in concern.

“We can’t have that now, can we? You need to eat, Lou. And then get some sleep… and then tell me what the hell is wrong.”

Louis simply nods again, feeling too tired to speak.

“What do you feel like eating?”

Louis mumbles unintelligibly into the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, and Harry sighs. Yeah, he’s pissed off at Louis because he should have told him that he wasn’t feeling well when he asked him, but Harry also feels guilty himself. How had he not noticed that his boy hadn’t eaten anything that day? And he should’ve know that Louis hadn’t been getting any sleep from the bags under his eyes. 

“I take it you don’t care what I feed you because you just want to go to sleep?”

Another nod.

“Alright, baby. There’s food on the bus you can eat on the way back to the hotel. Do you think you can walk? Because if pictures surface of me carrying you out to the bus management will-

“Guys, we gotta get on the bus. Are you alright, Lou? Liam seemed pretty worried about ya.”

“M’fine, Niall,” Louis groans, but he doesn’t have the energy to project his voice far enough, so the sound only falls on Harry’s ears.

“What was that?”

“Niall, can you carry him? I don’t think he’s feeling very steady on his feet and you know that if I get seen carrying him…”

“Not a problem, Harry. Lou, I’m gonna lift you up, alright?”

“No,” he protests weakly, but Harry is much stronger than he is in his current state, and hands him off to Niall easily despite his attempts to wriggle out from his grasp.

“It’s alright, pumpkin. I’ve got ya. Not feeling very well, are we?”

“Niall, if you call me ‘pumpkin’ ever again…”

“Eh. You’re not too scary right now, pumpkin.”

“I hate him,” Louis whines, craning his neck as best as he can to look back at his boyfriend.

“Should’ve told me you weren’t feeling well before the show when I asked,” Harry grins playfully, and really, Louis can’t argue with that. 

Louis is so exhausted that Harry has to practically hand feed him, and he’s thankful that the exhaustion is strong enough to keep him from feeling embarrassed because as hard as Niall and Liam are trying to seem like they aren’t watching, he knows that they are.

“Come on. A few more bites, babe. Your body needs it.”

“Sleep.”

“Soon, sweetheart. We’re almost there. But you’ve got to finish your food first.”

“You’re mean,” Louis mumbles sleepily, and Harry swears he can feel the size of his heart doubling in his chest.

“Just looking out for you, Lou.”

When the bus pulls up into the hotel parking lot, Louis adamantly insists that he can walk into the building on the own, mainly because now with some food in his system he feels much less shaky, but secondarily because if Niall carries him and calls him “pumpkin” one more time he just might have that nervous breakdown that he’s been on the edge of since Zayn left.

The boys oblige him, but Niall walks right behind him with his hands hovering over Louis’ waist, ready to help out at any moment. It would be sweet if Louis wasn’t so cranky and just wanting to sleep.

“You’ll text if you two need anything, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, we will,” Louis says shortly, disappearing into and he and Harry’s hotel room the second the door opens.

“I got him, Li,” Harry smiles softly, shooing him and Niall away so he can be alone with his boyfriend. He gently closes the door and chuckles at the sight of Louis already sprawled out across the bed.

“You gotta take your clothes off first, Lou.”

“Too tired for that tonight.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” Harry rolls his eyes, “if you fall asleep in jeans and a t-shirt you’ll wake up in the middle of the night all sweaty.”

Harry walks over to Louis, who is halfheartedly trying to tug his shirt over his head, to offer his assistance.

“You really are tired, aren’t you?”

Louis doesn’t respond other than groaning when his shirt gets stuck, and Harry laughs and pulls it off for him. His pants come off much easier, which concerns Harry a little bit, because the pants given to Louis to wear on stage have always been tight, and have never slid off that gracefully. (Harry would know, he’s helped take them off many a time.) His eyes linger over Louis’ body, scanning it for any changes.

“Usually it’s pretty hot when you check me out, but right it just feels kind of creepy, Haz.”

“Have you lost weight?”

“I dunno. Maybe? My stage clothes have been feeling a little loose.”

“So, this accidentally not eating thing… it wasn’t just today?”

“Harry,” Louis whines, “not right now, please.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Harry…”

“You need to sleep,” Harry says slowly, “but first you have to promise me that you’ll talk to me tomorrow, okay? Whatever is wrong, I can help, but only if you let me. Please let me, Lou.”

“I promise,” Louis mumbles, and Harry gets the feeling that he’s only promising him so that he can go to sleep, but he’s is still going to hold him to it anyway.

Harry flicks the light switch before crawling into bed, curling his body protectively around Louis’. Louis doesn’t say anything, probably already 80% asleep, but he can feel his body tense ever so slightly in surprise.

“Let me be the big spoon tonight, babe.”

Louis’ body relaxes in contentment and his breathing slows, letting Harry know that he’s okay with the arrangement and that he’s fallen asleep. Harry still whispers an “I love you,” knowing that it’s falling on deaf ears, but still feeling the need to say it. He doesn’t need to hear it back, the answer being in Louis’ body melting into his.

“I love you so much, Louis,” Harry continues whispering, “and whatever’s wrong, we’ll fix it. I promise. Everything is going to be okay. You just gotta trust me, sweetheart.”

Harry himself doesn’t fall asleep for a few more hours, wanting to be sure Louis stays sound asleep, because he has the feeling that his boyfriend’s troubles with sleeping are more than just a one-time thing. And if Louis wakes up in the middle of night, Harry wants to be awake to soothe him back to sleep, now knowing that Louis wouldn’t necessarily wake him up to help.

But Louis doesn’t stir in the slightest, and Harry’s eyes start to feel heavier and heavier until sleep finally overtakes him as well.


	2. Sunday, Lazy Sunday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i decided to make this a three part instead of a two part story, oops

The first thing Louis notices when he wakes up is that Harry’s body is no longer curled around him. He whines in discontent, lifting his head to try and locate his missing boyfriend.

The second thing he notices is that the voice is greeting him “good morning” is definitely not Harry’s.

“Liam, what the hell are you doing in here?”

“Good morning to you to, Louis. Harry and Niall are at that interview they have this morning.”

Oh. That’s why Harry is missing. But what time is it? How long has he been asleep? And that still doesn’t explain why Liam is there.

“Harry wanted me to keep an eye on you,” Liam adds, seemingly reading his friend’s final train of thought.

“Course he did.”

“Hey, after yesterday, can you really blame him?”

Liam’s got a point, but Louis doesn’t want to acknowledge it, so he doesn’t. Instead, he asks Liam for the time and the other boy rolls his eyes, but tells him that it’s 10:30 in the morning. 

“Jesus, I was out for a long time.”

“You needed it,” Liam shrugs, pushing a tray of food toward him.

“Breakfast in bed, Liam? Really?”

“It was Harry’s doing,” he explains, “I was just given the instruction to give it to you. And he told me to make sure you finish all of it, so please don’t fight me on this.”

“Fine,” Louis mutters indignantly, trying to be pissed off at Harry and Liam for babying him and trying to ignore the genuine appreciate for the sweetness of the gesture that is bubbling in his chest. He’s the oldest. He doesn’t need to be babied this way. (Even if it’s really, really nice. Not that he’s going to admit that out loud.)

Louis props himself up with pillows so he can sit up to eat, and Liam sits beside him in bed, slinging an arm back around the pillows. Louis recognizes this as his friend wanting to put an arm around him without embarrassing him, and Louis debates calling him out on it because he doesn’t need to be babysat and cuddled, but when he looks over at Liam he decides to let it slide. His face is relaxed and his body language his casual, but Louis knows him well enough to the concern in his eyes.

Louis feels guilty for worrying Liam and Niall and especially Harry, but he doesn’t want to have that conversation with Liam when he knows he’s going to have to have it with Harry, so he stifles the apology on his tongue.

“How are you feeling?”

“Eh. Better than last night, at least.”

“You should’ve told us you weren’t feeling well before the show, you know why?”

“Because I could’ve passed out which would have caused a PR disaster for the band?”

“Well, that, and the fact that you now have to pretend to have a hurt ankle for the next couple of days. Management asked about what happened last night, and I figured you’d rather they be told the lie than the truth.”

“Thank you,” he says quietly, grateful that he won’t have to have a conversation about “taking care of himself” with the very people who make it hard for him to take care of himself.

“Don’t thank me yet. They’re probably going to ask Harry and Niall about it in their interview and you know Niall can’t lie for shit.”

Louis laughs in agreement, nearly spitting out the jam and toast that he’s chewing on. He and Liam joke around about Niall’s inability to lie, recounting their favorite instances of such, while he finishes his breakfast. After he’s finished, he heads to the bathroom to shower, since he was too tired to do so last night. He’s sweaty and gross, and he figures Liam is just being nice in not pointing out how badly he smells.

He takes his time in the shower, reveling in the feel of the steaming water on his tired, achy muscles, so he’s not surprised when he comes out and is greeted by Harry instead of Liam.

“Morning, love. How was the interview?”

“How are you?” Harry asks, pointedly ignoring Louis’ question.

“I’m alright.”

“Are you?”

“Harry.”

“Well, I’ve found you don’t always tell me the truth when you ask me that question!”

“Harry,” Louis sighs, sitting back down on the bed, “come sit with me, yeah?”

Harry glares at Louis for a moment, swiping at his eyes which have turned tellingly red, before his sharpness suddenly melts and he’s enveloping Louis in his arms.

“M’sorry baby. I’m just worried.”

“Shh, Haz. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Can you tell me what’s going on?” Harry asks softly, running his hand through his boyfriend’s hair.

“I can… but will I?” Louis jokes weakly in a halfhearted attempt at procrastination.

“Yes,” Harry says, this time his voice stern, “yes, you will. Come on, Lou. It’s just me. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Of course I know that, but-

“So tell me.”

“Okay,” he whispers, more to himself than to Harry.

It’s silent for a moment, and Harry doesn’t push. He knows that Louis often has a hard time expressing his feelings, so he can afford to give him a minute to try and work up his courage.

“Zayn,” he finally says quietly, and Harry cocks his head in confusion.

“Zayn? But… you haven’t talked to him in weeks? Unless-

“No,” Louis says quickly, “I haven’t been talking to him. But it’s my fault.”

“It’s your fault you and Zayn aren’t on speaking terms? No, Lou, he’s the one who left the band. I’m not quite following you, sweetheart.” 

“It’s my fault he left the band!” Louis blurts out, regretting it the instant the words are out of his mouth.

Harry’s face mirrors several emotions before landing on hurt. 

“Louis William Tomlinson,” he says urgently, gently tilting Louis’ face with his hands so that the other boy has to look at him, “what on earth are you talking about?”

“Never mind,” he says, shaking his head furiously, “never mind. I’m just being stupid and it’s nothing and-

“It’s not nothing. You’re upset and I need you to tell me why you feel that way.”

“Harry, no.”

“Harry, yes,” he objects, tightening his arms around a wiggling Louis, “I need you to talk to me so I can help, because clearly this is hurting you. And I don’t like it when you’re hurting.”

“You don’t understand.”

“What don’t I understand, Lou?”

“What it’s like to be me,” he says desperately, “I’m not the cool one the way Zayn was, I can’t sing the way Liam can, I don’t drop panties the way you do, and Niall is just… sunshine. But I’m none of that. But what I am, or at least what I was, is a leader. I was supposed to keep us together, to keep us going when things are tough. But I couldn’t do it and now Zayn’s gone and it’s my fault because I should have seen it and done something, but I didn’t. It’s my fault and now I have to pretend to have a baby because apparently management thinks that’s the only thing that will makes fans care about me, and I have no idea how to fake being a father. I just can’t breathe, Harry! I feel stressed out all the time and I just can’t come down and it’s keeping me up at night and I-I… I don’t know. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

There’s a long moment of deafening silence in the room, and Louis brings his hands to cover his mouth in horror. He’s about to run from the room right when Harry pulls his body so that they’re lying down with Louis’ head on his chest, his arms around him protectively.

“How dare you?” he asks lowly.

“…How dare I what, Haz?” Louis asks meekly.

“Talk about yourself that way,” he whispers, and Louis can tell that he’s on the verge of tears.

“Harry, I-

“You’re a fantastic singer, Louis. And you’re beautiful and everyone loves your personality. The fans adore you, almost as much as I love you, and the band would be nothing without you. You are our leader, and you always have been, and Zayn leaving doesn’t change that, do you hear me? Zayn wasn’t happy here anymore. He wanted out and you couldn’t have stopped him from leaving. It’s not your fault and I’m so sorry that you’ve been feeling this why. Why didn’t you tell me, Lou?”

Louis doesn’t say anything, not wanting to burst into tears, so he just shakes his head against Harry’s chest.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t want to bother you or the boys. We’re all stressed out.”

“Louis, you’re allowed to have feelings. When something is wrong I want to know about it, okay?”

Despite trying his best, Louis can’t help but start to sniffle, hot tears falling from his eyes and onto Harry’s shirt.

“I-I’m sorry… I just…

“Shh, Lou. It’s okay, baby. I’m right here. And we’re going to get you feeling better, okay? We’ll fix this.”

“I’m so stressed out,” Louis cries, shaking against Harry’s body.

“I know. Shh, it’s okay. Everything’s okay. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself, sweetheart. It’s not your job to take care of anyone but yourself. And this whole fake baby thing is fucking stupid. Anyone who pays attention won’t believe it, and it’s not like you have to parent the kid. The media will be satisfied with a few pictures of you holding the baby.”

“M’so tired,” Louis sobs, allowing all the pent-up emotion to spill out of him, “and I never feel g-good anymore because I c-can’t sleep and I k-keep forgetting to eat. It’s all m-my fault and I’m so s-sorry.”

“Louis, baby, nothing is your fault. I can try and help you sleep now that I know what’s going on, and if that doesn’t work we can take you to talk to someone, okay? And I’ll make sure you’re eating, baby. Shh, it’s all alright, Louis.”

Louis doesn’t try and speak again, his body being too wracked too harshly with sobs. Harry rubs his back soothingly and sings “Little Things” in his ear to try and calm him down. When Louis’ sobs begin to mellow out and turn into quiet whimpers, the overwhelming sleepiness is once again tugging at his eyelids. 

“Go back to sleep, Louis,” Harry murmurs, noticing his boyfriend fighting to keep his eyes open, “I’ll be here when you wake up this time, I promise. I love you.”

“But… don’t we have…that thing?” he mumbles sleepily. 

Harry chuckles and shushes him, telling him that they don’t have to be back on the bus until the evening.

“Okay. Love you more.”

“Not possible, Lou,” Harry assures him, but Louis is already asleep.


End file.
